


Trampled Under Foot

by Hyde_Writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cute, Fluff, I hope you don't mind Dean taking Chuck's name in vain, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Meet-Cute, kindergarten teacher Castiel, lots of cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:45:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyde_Writes/pseuds/Hyde_Writes
Summary: Baby's been hurt, but so has the beautifully blue-eyed man in the massive Lincoln Continental. Dean can't help it if the man's injury distracts him from his concern for his car or the fact that he should be furious that the man bent his baby's rear bumper.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little short fic that I thought would be cute. I may or may not continue with it, but for now its going to be a oneshot. If i get a lot of interest in the story, I will definitely consider it.

                The crunch was like a bolt of electricity shooting down Dean’s spine. God damn it. He’d only made it five feet from where he had dropped Sam off a minute earlier and the person in the shitty car behind him was probably a stoned-out-of-their-gourd uninsured college student. Double God damn it.

                With a deep breath, Dean shut off his car and pulled himself out of the cab to see the damage that the big – oh fuck – Lincoln Continental did to his Baby. Of all the fucking cars to rear end Baby, it had to be the only one that could actually do some damage. Dean’s stomach churned with anger as he stepped toward the rear of his Baby, glaring at the damned pimpmobile as he went.

                Another deep breath and Dean leaned over the edge of Baby’s quarter panel, expecting the worst. He knew it couldn’t be the worst, that had been when a freaking semi plowed through her, but Dean figured expecting the worst would calm him down when it wasn’t as bad. As expected it wasn’t as bad as he prepared himself for, but damn if it didn’t piss Dean off royally to see his Baby in such a bad shape. The bumper was slightly twisted under and the license plate was bent in so far that it was unreadable. Dean looked farther across the bumper and saw that his taillight had been cracked too.

                “Damn it.” Dean grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

                “Oh, sir – I am so sorry. My coffee fell and --.” Dean turned toward the source of the gravelly voice and paused. The blue of the man’s stare was like a bolt of electricity shooting to Dean’s crotch. God damn it.

                Dean’s mouth went dry and the burning flames of anger waned momentarily before bursting forward tenfold as flames of lust. The man before him was breathtaking, distractingly so. Dean’s never met anyone who could take his mind off of Baby, not even when they were bouncing on his dick in Baby’s backseat.

                “Are you alright?” The man stepped forward, reaching a hand out, but not touching Dean. That voice resonated into Dean’s ribcage, making him shutter. His heart pounded harder when he caught the scent of the man’s cologne. Double God damn it.

                A car passed them, pulling Dean out of his thoughts. It was only then that he realized that he was standing there gaping stupidly at the man. He, realized belatedly, that he hadn’t answered the man’s question either. A car passed by them, pulling Dean from his thoughts. It was only then that he realized that he was gaping stupidly at the man. He hadn’t answered the man’s question either.

                “Shit.” Dean’s face reddened as the man’s eyes filled with something that looked like panic.

“Sorry – I mean yes, yes. I’m okay. How are you? You spilled your coffee. Are you, uh, are you burnt?”

                Dean’s eyes shot to the man’s coffee-stained sleeve and, without thinking, grabbed the man’s clearly red hand. The man hissed and Dean pulled his hands away quickly and put his hands up. “Wait here.”

                Dean didn’t think as he opened his lunch box. He didn’t think about how weird it was the he was more worried about the man’s burnt hand than Baby’s bumper as he pulled the first aid kit out from under the driver’s seat.

                He didn’t think about how hard his heart was beating as he held the man’s hand and poured his ice cold water over the man’s burnt skin. He didn’t think about the man’s messy black hair or how the man’s blue eyes glowed with appreciation as he watched Dean apply burn cream and a bandage to the worst burns.

                “There,” Dean kneeled next to the man, admiring his handy work. The bandages crisscrossed over the man’s thin wrist and long slender fingers. With a gulp, Dean checked his watch and cringed at the time. He was late for work and didn’t call in. Bobby was going to kill him. “I uh, gotta get to work.”

                Dean stood to leave but went rigid when the man’s uninjured fingers wrapped around his wrist.

                “Wait what about your car?” The man’s blue eyes searched Dean’s face for some answer to the question. Dean stared a little longer before realizing that he had to answer the question.

                “Oh, shit. I forgot. Uh, you got a name? Number? I really gotta get to work.” Dean checked his watch again and wondered how so many minutes passed since the last time he checked it. “Shit, you want to write down your info? I’ll call at my break so we can …”

                The man pulled a card from a pocket on his trench coat, which made Dean double take. He hadn’t noticed that the man was wearing a trench coat until then. What a weirdo. “Here.”

                The card was thrust to Dean and the man smiled brightly with his chapped, pink lips. Dean took it and shoved it into his pocket unceremoniously, jumping into Baby with a rushed ‘thanks.”

 

* * *

 

                Work was complete shit. Bobby was in a bad mood apparently from the start of the day and screamed Dean’s ear off until he was red in the face. It wasn’t like Dean wasn’t used to it, but on top of that, the shop was packed and at least one European car was sitting on deck for the whole day. Freaking tea and crumpet mobiles are some of the hardest to fix. Metric – enough said, no there was more. Too many sensors or just plain bad design planning. Who puts a freaking cross member _under_ an oil bung? Savages.

                It just kept getting worse. Dean was about to call it quits for his lunch – he had skipped his first break – when a freaking Saab pulled up. Saabs are the worst to work on, hands down, end of story, thank you for playing, you stole fizzy-lifting drinks, you bumped into the ceiling which now has to be cleaned and sterilized, so you get nothing! You Lose! Good day sir! Dean glared at the back of the lady’s head as he slid under her damn Saab.

                It was two hours from the end of his shift when Dean took his shortened fifteen-minute lunch. He was beat and right when he was about to bite into his huge, homemade sandwich, he spotted Baby’s rear end again. Reaching into his pocket under his coveralls, he felt the sharp, glossy shape in his pocket. With a scowl, he pulled the plain card out and read the name.

                “Cast eel?” Dean squinted at the card and turned it sideways. “Casss till? The hell kind of name is that?” Dean bit into his sandwich and almost choked when a gravelly voice broke the silence behind him.

                “It’s an angelic name. Mom’s idea.” Dean froze mid-chew and stared, wide-eyed at the blue eyed man, Castiel. The man stepped around to the other side of the picnic table and sat across from Dean with his hands folded in front of him. “And its pronounced Cass tee ell.” Castiel smirked at him and Dean ignored how beautiful he looked.

                “You stalking me now?” Dean took a sip of his coke and bit into his sandwich heartily, determined not to eat daintily. Doing that shit to impress an amazingly hot guy was just plain girly. Somewhere in the back of Dean’s head a small voice that sounded like an echo from his father’s drinking days said something that sounded like, ‘so is thinking guys are amazingly hot.’ Dean cringed inwardly and swallowed his big bite. “How’d you find me?”

                Castiel just smiled and pointed to something behind Dean. The giant god awfully ugly Lincoln sat menacingly behind one of those little Craptastic™ hybrid cars. It still seemed to look fine and there were no scratches or dents on it, like you could dent a tank like that.

                “It looks fine.” Dean kind of mumbled to himself, taking inventory of the issues a minor fender bender could cause a beast like that. “Why’d you bring it here? We’re packed.”

                The man’s head tilted to the side, like a cute confused puppy. “You work here?” Dean nodded and forced himself to crank his flirty, panty-dropping smile back a couple of notches.

                “Don’t think this excuses you from paying for the damage.” He winked and internally cringed at his shameless flirting. How had he kept himself in the closet for so many fucking years with this behavior?

                “I fully expect to recompense for the damages that have befell your vehicle due to fault of my own. It is, after all, only equitable. As the Roman philosopher Seneca said ‘ _Auditur et altera pars’._ ” The man deadpanned and Dean made a gargling noise, nearly choking on his coke. The man’s serious face fell into a smirk, then a full on sexy, eye-crinkling smile. His laugh was fucking gorgeous and it made a billion butterflies take flight into Dean’s stomach. A large boot of annoyance did its best to stomp them all out.

                Dean couldn’t help but smile at the man. “What the hell was that? Are you a freaking law student or a philosophy major?” The man laughed harder and Dean’s chest cavity seemed to shrink on him.   

                “No, ha. I – oh, jeez, I’m an art teacher.” Castiel seemed to calm down when he noticed Dean’s stare. “Oh, come on. It was a little funny.” Dean’s smirk gave him away and it gave Castiel a confidence boost. He shook his head and smiled brightly at Dean.

                “Well, if you’re a professor, then I know you can afford the damages. Should probably charge you double.” Dean took a nonchalant sip of his drink, watching Castiel’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Cas smirked and – fuck me -- ran a hand through his messy, black hair.

                “Sorry, sir. Not a professor, but a teacher. I teach kindergarteners.” The man beamed on the last sentence and Dean could swear his heart beat was only slightly less audible than a stage speaker at a Metallica concert.

                “Huh, what’s a kindergarten teacher doing at KSU?” Dean tilted his head down and looked up at Castiel, silently yelling at himself to stop flirting like he was a waitress trying hard for tips.

                “Oh, I – uh, had to drop off my little sister, Anna. It’s her first year. She’s a law student.” He blushed with so much pride that Dean wanted to reach over and – not the time or place, Winchester.

                “Oh, cool. My little brother, Sammy ‘s a law student too.” Dean smiled at Castiel and he tilted his head. “Anna sounds like a normal name. Why’d you get saddled with ‘Castiel’ and where’d all that legal jargon and philosophical pondering come from? I didn’t think they got into contracts until the third year.” Castiel smiled at him and blatantly ignored Dean’s question about the name.

                “That was pure bullshit, but my brother, Gabriel – yes, angelic name, again mom’s idea – is a lawyer in the next town over. Not like the serious stuff, just writing contracts for bands and entertainment in the area but I pick up a few phrases here and there when I’m keeping him company in his office/studio.” Castiel shrugged and Dean’s eyes followed the shape of the man’s shoulders under his baggy trench coat. Castiel coughed nervously and actively ignored Dean’s stupidly obvious elevator eyes.

                “Oh and Anna is short for Haniel.” He paused and Dean looked at him with a questioning eyebrow raised. “Well, the other variation of Haniel is Anael and well –.” Castiel trailed off with a small blush on his cheeks. Dean laughed and shook his head.

                “But the names. I mean, really angels? What’s that about?” Dean couldn’t let somethings go and apparently to the annoyance of the very tense looking man across from him, this was one of them.

                “I assure you it wasn’t my choice. Had I been cognitive enough to assert my opinion, I would have exercised that right.” He rolled his eyes – yeah, really did that and it was hot. Dean wasn’t drooling. “Though, I suppose, every name has an origin. What’s your name? I bet I can tell you right off what it’s root origin is.” He squinted at Dean in a challenging stare and Dean squinted back.

                “No.” Dean drained the rest of his soda and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Castiel’s reaction was hilarious and Dean basked in the rays of pure annoyance that shot from his eyes.

                “What? What do you mean ‘no’?” Dean didn’t think his squint game could get any stronger, but by god it did. And holy fuck, that adorable head tilt.

                “I think I’ll keep it a mystery. That way there’s no origin guessing and I can keep my prejudice against your angelic name.” He winked and tapped on the table.

                “Hey, but then – how will I pay for the damages?” Castiel looked worried and Dean made a big show of pondering on the subject.

                “Hmm. How about this? I’ll tell you my name in due time when—.”

                “Dean! Where the hell have you been, boy, your lunch was over twenty minutes ago! Get in here!” Bobby stalked over to the picnic table with all the grace of a crotchety old man, ignoring his previous order to Dean. His strict demeanor softened when he noticed Castiel sitting across from him. Damn it. “Oh, hello.” Dean rolled his eyes, thankful for Bobby’s uncanny attentiveness toward his customers. “Was Dean here discussing the details of your car repairs?”

                The tone of the question was naturally helpful, but the raised eyebrow that he shot to Dean was enough to let him know that he was still in trouble for not helping with the rush. Dean’s eyes shot back to Castiel, who was smirking maliciously. Why was – shit. Bobby ruined his flirting game. Fuck.

                “Oh, yes. _Dean_ here, was just discussing with me the merits of checking up on my car. You see, I was just in a small collision, but there doesn’t seem to be any damage to it. He suggested that even though there isn’t any damage done on a superficial level, there may be some internal issues.” Cas smiled at Bobby, then looked at Dean with a that fucking ~~hot~~ smirk again.

                “He is a very stoic teacher and, from what I gathered from our conversation, would be a great leader, if given a chance.” Bobby nodded, not quite following the sentiment. “I think,” He beamed at Bobby and Dean brightly and it was fucking glorious. “that quality – leadership – comes from his namesake. You see, the name Dean derives from two root words coming from both Greek and Latin words, dekanos and decanum, both meaning chief or person in charge of ten others.” Dean’s mouth fell open. How the hell does he know that off hand? It’d be hot if he wasn’t so annoyed at the smirk on that fucking beautiful face. The sexy asshole.

                Between Dean’s shock and Castiel’s –  dean didn’t know -- probably some kind of fucked up basking in his victory, there was an extended silence filled with intense totally not eye-fucking. Bobby’s eyes bounced between the two of them. After a second, he shot Dean a perplexed look and cleared his throat loudly, trying to break up the staring without having to hose them down.  

                “Huh, interesting.” Bobby was anything but interested. “I’m sorry for interrupting your consultation, but I need all hands on deck right now. I’ll set you up with Jo in our office so she can schedule a free consultation. In the meantime, I need Dean to get to work.” Bobby shot Dean a “get to work” look and smiled, if you can call it that, welcomingly at Castiel.

                “Well, it was nice to meet you Castiel.” Dean shook Castiel’s hand and about-faced, quickly walking toward the shop without a response from the blue-eyed Adonis.

                “It was nice meeting you too, _Dean_.” Dean’s shoulders tensed at the tone he took when he said his name. It was taunting, fucking sexy, but a dig no less. He kept walking without looking back.

                God, damn it. The angel, Castiel, was an evil, attractive, infuriating asshole and Dean planned to call him after work.

               


End file.
